AllFreeNovel
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I fish a comb out of my box, close it, and get on my knees, waddling around Sylvie to kneel behind her. I run my fingers through her hair first, then the comb, and then my fingers again. If I smooth it down too much, it’ll look harsh when I want it to be softer. I gather sections of hair up, leaving them messy, and start a big, loose fishtail braid to the left side of her head.
I dig the elastic out of my hair and use it on hers to end the braid.
Moving to her front, I fluff the braid segments. It’s smoother than I’d like, but the braid is a nice touch.
“Okay,” I say, heart pounding in my chest. I spin the box and put my hand on the lid, ready to pull out the mirror. “Are you ready to look?”
Eyes big, Sylvie nods. I lift the top and hold my breath.
She studies herself. Tilting her head, she blinks at her reflection, inspecting her cheekbones and then tilting her chin up to look at her jawline. Then she centers herself again and takes a deep breath.
And then her face crumples as she bursts into tears.
“Oh shit.” I panic, horrified. “I can take it off. I’m so sorry.”
Juna is there in a flash, kneeling next to Sylvie and pulling her close, muttering softly to her in Swiss-German. Sylvie says something to her mom between sobs.
“I am so sorry,” I repeat. I get to my feet and grab some tissues from the box, but before I can return to Sylvie, Peter grabs my elbow.
“Kara. Stop.”
I bite my lip and face Peter. I expected a tense jaw, eyes filled with anger or hatred for making his niece cry, but instead, there’s a softness in his face that I’ve never seen before.
Sylvie repeats the same sentence again, and I flinch when Peter’s hand tightens, but he relaxes it right away.
Peter guides me out of the room and up the stairs to our bedroom. I sit on the bed and tuck my hands under my thighs.
“I thought she would like it. I am so sorry; your family has been so good to me, and I just thought—”
My words are cut off by Peter’s mouth on mine. The kiss is perfunctory, perhaps because I’ve gone utterly still, so surprised by his actions. His lips are firm and warm, a solid press against mine that disappears before I have time to process it.
“Thank you,” he says when he pulls away.
“Um...”
“She was not upset.”
I shoot him a look. A that’s-a-load-of-bullshit look.
“Not abadupset,” he amends. “A good upset. She said...” He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing under that strong jaw of his. “She said she looks like a girl.”
Oh.Oh.
Peter reaches out and touches my shoulder, giving the muscle a gentle squeeze. His words are soft and emotional. “It was a good thing.”
I take my hands out from under my thighs and place my right hand over his. Our gazes meet, and for the first time since it was decided I would stay with his family, Peter’s finally relaxed. Those eyebrows I shaped and smoothed two days ago are relaxed, the tightness in the corners of his mouth gone. Peter looks a few years younger without the stress of protecting his family from strangers on his shoulders.
When my gaze wanders back to his eyes from his mouth, there’s something else there.
Peter kissed me. It was quick and thankful and spur of the moment, but it still happened. But Peter is my client.
And here, sitting on this bed that we shared last night, and we’re going to have to share tonight, it could happen again.
Neither of us moves. We just stare at each other, the warmth of his hand a steady weight on my shoulder through the cotton of my shirt.
His thumb shifts, ever so slightly, across the collar to brush against my bare skin.
There’s a knock on the door, and we both jump. Sylvie calls from the hallway. “Kara?”
